


Angelic courtship

by Lokuro



Series: Curse of Strahd Verse [4]
Category: Curse of Strahd - Fandom, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Angels, Graphic Description of Surgery, Mad Angels, Mad Scientists, Misunderstandings, Other, kissing is science, really really bad sappy novels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27763597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokuro/pseuds/Lokuro
Summary: In order to create the perfect bride, an inquisitive angel tries to unravel the arcane mysteries of human courtship. And what better way is there to achieve this goal, but to study the source material?
Relationships: The Abbot (Curse of Strahd)/The perfect bride (Curse of Strahd)
Series: Curse of Strahd Verse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802551
Kudos: 10





	Angelic courtship

The angel was a fast reader. He had no difficulties storing new knowledge or dissecting obscure mysteries down to their very basic pieces. In fact, he liked taking a complex matter apart. It was strangely satisfying to uncover the fundamental truths buried beneath layers and layers of useless embellishments, be it tense muscles or childhood traumas.

Without batting an eyelash — not that he  _ needed  _ blinking, but one picked up all kinds of useless mannerisms if one strolled among humanoids long enough — he unlocked arcane knowledge, opened up bodies and modified the very souls of these feeble creatures. He also rarely read the same book twice, since he could recollect the exact wording even decades later if need be. But this book... It gave him some trouble. 

"Please, hold it a bit higher." The angel's voice was a soft command. A request so gentle and unyielding, nobody in their right mind would ever dream of disobeying. His assistant dutifully adjusted the position of a battered volume he was holding before his master's eyes. The Abbot studied the text again, in a futile hope that yet another, an even more thorough inspection would finally unveil the hidden secrets. All the while, his careful fingers never stopped in their delicate work, gently twirling and rotating a metal hook to unwind an artery from the left arm of the naked druidess spread on his workbench.

_ "I wasn't gorgeous or beautiful, just a conventional young lady freshly presented at the court, nothing special. So what if I had curves in all the right places? I was still shy about my slim waistline and my huge green eyes. It was my first time in such an illustrious company, and my cheeks were flushed with embarrassment and glowed in a lovely pink. I probably looked silly amides the other ladies." _

As he pulled the artery further out, the angel spared a short look at the worn-out body on the workbench. Did this particular specimen possess curves in the right places? Or were some of them wrong? Which would that be? He continued pulling. His movements were slow. Mindful. The blood-drenched cord slid out of the flesh with a wet, slippery sound. The angel cut it at the exact length of two-feet and let it coil into a metal bowl held by his assistant. As warm blood sipped out from the artery into the shiny surface of the container, the angel made a mental note to add a few more arms to his assistant - two was such an ineffective number of appendages.

" _ I stood in the corner of the dancing hall when our eyes first met. He had bright purple eyes rung with gold and full of dazzling sparkles. His gaze was so deep and willful, I felt my knees shake with the power of it. _ "

The angel frowned. Were shaky knees a necessary requirement at the first stage of romance? Should he destabilize Vasilika's knee caps? Should he have shaken in front of Strahd, if he wished to capture his attention and signalize willingness for further negotiations?

" _We danced, and it seemed as if we were the only couple on the dance floor._ _His strong arms were holding me tightly, pressing me to his broad chest in an almost indecent manner. But I did not mind his offensive pursuit, he was just as helpless in the clutches of passion, and in his ruby eyes I saw the same adoration I felt blooming in my heaving bosom."_

A thin tube peeked from the mouth of the druidess. Its shimmering length wound around the table leg and ended in another creature that faintly resembled a blowfish. Its skin was wrinkled and yellow, its black eyes round and wide in what looked like mindless panic. Despite the somewhat hysterical expression, the creature inflated rhythmically, sending air into the unconscious druidess and expanding her lungs with a wheezing noise. A bothersome but necessary precaution to keep the body alive during the operation. Was it enough bosom heaving? All of these books were so imprecise, never stating the exact frequency nor the amplitude of the heaving.

_ "I tossed my silky locks over the shoulder and gnawed on my full lips. It was too much! I fled from the stuffy dance room, too overwhelmed with feelings. Just as I stepped outside, heavy rain started pattering down on the streets. I roamed the empty streets for a while, until my cloak was heavy with rain, always hearing a distant echo of footsteps behind me. When eventually I turned around, he was standing right there. "I never want to lose the sight of you," he whispered, and suddenly teardrops were mixing with the pouring rain. My heart leapt forward, and I fell around his neck." _

The angel considered the druidess on the workbench and the correlation between constant surveillance and love and placed the knife atop of her sternum. The sharp blade left a vertical incision between two flat lumps of flesh needed for feeding and parted the upper layer of skin, fat, and muscles. The cut was methodical and fast - the angel always liked this part. Not in itself of cause, but it was a lot more enjoyable than what came next - opening the human's chest by splitting the breastbone. This was always messy. "Please, hold the book two inches to the left," it would do no good to splatter blood onto the pages. With a loud crack, the bone shattered upon the radiant blow delivered by the angel's delicate hand, and the heart laid bare on the silky, wet cushions of the flesh, crowned only by the brittle ribcage. The beat was slow, strenuous, and after the injection of a prepared solution into the pulsating tissue, it stopped completely.

_ "With trembling hands on my bosom, I gasped at his audacity. The moonlight shimmered through the rain clouds and fell on his pale cheekbones that I could cut myself on. And he bent down and whispered into my ear, "Shall I make you forever mine, my sweet angel?"" _

At this phrase, the angel always got confused. Even after extensive study, he could not find any indication that the heroine of the book was of a celestial origin. Indeed, he was aware of the use of the diminutive "angel" to express sentiment rather than actual origin, but it always felt so cruel. It stirred a faint feeling of betrayal. Liars, all of them: There were no angels in his dark place. He was all alone... Should Vasilika address Strahd as  _ my sweet angel _ ?  _ My sweet corpse _ ? Was Strahd sweet? He looked at the cone-shaped clump of muscles in his hands as if it could tell him the taste of this land's master. Curiously, the angel licked the heart with the very tip of his pink tongue. Nothing sweet about that. Maybe because it wasn't an angel's. With a shrug, he severed the connections and junctions and reached into another body on a nearby bench, plucking a beating heart from another breast. Human-primate xenotransplantion was always tricky, but he was confident that this time it would work. On the other workbench, a deer-like creature with soft brown eyes was slowly dying, bleeding out onto the floor of the operating suite. Sure, allografts could be extracted from any cadaveric source just as well, but the living tissue had a lower risk of rejection. Ah, but this one was going to be lovely.

_ "Abashed, I let my voluminous locks fall into my face, shielding me from the world as an inky veil. But the handsome stranger with the mysterious ruby eyes did not let me hide from his intense glare. He took me by the chin, tilted my head up and pressed a breathtaking kiss on my lips. It was mind-melting, and I saw fireworks exploding behind my eyelids!" _

The angel was almost finished wiring up the cleaved sternum. A few copper wires would be sticking out for a while, but he could remove them later. The laboratory door creaked.

"Master? It's the new one. Again. It looks like he broke several bones in his new limbs while trying to escape the cage. Shall I bring him here for some refitting or is he one of the failures now?"

"No. Not now, just leave him there for a few hours." The angel made a dismissive gesture and then looked at Klovin. His serene expression changed to thoughtful, "Have you ever kissed someone?"

"Sure," the baby on his neck cackled mockingly, and Klovin gave him a head nut. The baby tried to bite on his fingers and missed, the single tooth in his mouth scratching on the crab claw instead.

"Does it require a lot of training?"

"Nope."

"Would you care to elaborate on your experience of kissing?"

"Anything better than emptying the chamber pots of another creep..." The angel did not pay any attention to the muttering and already picked up the parchment with his notes from the previous read-through of  _ the book _ . In his other hand was a quill, already dipped in ink and ready to check the symptoms.

"Did the kissing cause you or your partner any of those: respiratory distress, swollen lips, increased heartbeat, genitalia wetness, dizziness, acoustic or visual hallucinations?"

"... um, I hope not? Not to me, anyway."

"Maybe you were doing it wrong then," the Abbot frowned, displeased with the answer. Klovin was one of his early works, and clearly, he had no idea about proper kissing technique. The angel sighed; he was surrounded by amateurs.


End file.
